psychological ruse brought Jan-an to her normal state.

"Let's play Eve's Other Children," Noreen ran on. "I'll be Eve and
hide my children, the ones I don't like specially. You be God,
Jan-an."

This was a great concession on Noreen's part, for she revelled in the
leading role, as it gave full play to her dramatic sense of justice.

However, the play began with Noreen hiding some twisted and dry sticks
under stones and in holes in trees and then proceeding to dress, in
gay autumn leaves, more favoured twigs. She crooned over them;
expatiated upon their loveliness, and, at a given signal, poor Jan-an
clumsily appeared and in most unflattering terms accused Noreen of
depravity and unfaithfulness, demanding finally, in most picturesque
and primitive language, the hidden children. At this point Noreen rose
to great heights. Fear, remorse, and shame overcame her. She pleaded
and denied; she confessed and at last began, with the help of her
accuser, to search out the neglected offspring. So wholly did the two
enjoy this part of the game that they forgot their animosity, and when
the crooked twigs were discovered Jan-an became emphatically
allegorical with Noreen and ruthlessly destroyed the "other children"
on the score that they weren't worth keeping.

But the interest flagged at length, and both Jan-an and Noreen became
silent and depressed.

"I've got feelin's!" Jan-an remarked, "in the pit of my stomach.
Besides, it's getting cold and a storm's brewing. Did yer hear
thunder?"

Noreen was replacing her favoured children in the crannies of the
rocks, but she turned now to Jan-an and said wistfully:

"I want Motherly."

"She's biding terrible long up yonder."

"P'raps, oh! Jan-an, p'raps that lady you were telling about has taken
Motherly!"

Noreen became agitated, but Jan-an with blind intuition scoffed.

"No; whatever she took, she wouldn't take her! But she took Mr.
Northrup, all right. Her kind takes just fierce! I sense her."

Noreen looked blank.

"Tell me about the heathen, Jan-an," she said. "What _did_ he eat when
Uncle Peter wouldn't let him have Ginger?"

"I don't know, but I did miss two rabbits."

"Live ones, Jan-an?" Noreen's eyes widened.

"Sure, live ones. Everything's live till it's killed. I ain't saying
he et 'em 'live."

"Maybe the rabbits got away," Noreen suggested hopefully.

"The Lord knows! Maybe they did." Then Jan-an added further
information: "I guess your father has gone